Bugger Off Maybe
by CatClawz
Summary: On Hold-probably permanent. Can Draco seduce Harry? Or vice versa? Do they really want to seduce each other? Strong yaoi-slash warning. Rating will change as necessary. Chaps 4 & 5 up!
1. Bugger Off, Maybe

A/N: This is a Draco/Harry yaio-slash story. It was inspired by the unquenchable Kei and Rae, and I suppose dedicated to them. It was kind of fun, but I'm not really used-to/into writing yaio, so I don't know if I'll finish it or not. Nuff said, ENJOY. Please R&R!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or settings, and I made up the plot all by me onesey, savy?  
  
The Beginning (Otherwise known as Chapter 1):  
  
Draco Malfoy strolled casually into the infirmary. Only a few torches were lit as it was 10:14 at night. Draco walked along until he reached the second to last bed across from the tall windows. He stopped. Jumped on the bed...with a leg on either side of its occupant, keeping them from trying to leave.  
  
Not that Harry Potter could have gotten away from him that easily.  
  
"So," Draco hissed, "got you."  
  
Green eyes stared up at him through glasses that had been hastily fumbled on.  
  
"How have I pissed you off this time, Malfoy?"  
  
"This is my payback for what you've done to me. To us." Green eyes stared blankly at him. "They're after my father for what you did, you bastard."  
  
"Jeez, some people don't know a favor when they see one."  
  
Draco nearly slapped him. He very much wanted to slap him. Instead he leaned forward on his arms. "My father's in exile, you bastard, and any time he's caught he goes straight to Azkaban.  
  
"You messed everything up by doing that. Things would have gone so much better this year if you hadn't. We could have—" Draco stopped himself before he went further on that thought. Started again. "So I set that trap for you. I really didn't think you'd fall for it; I thought I'd have to wait another week before I caught you."  
  
"And now you've got me in the infirmary where you can do anything you want with me. For a few hours anyway."  
  
"Yes, anything I want." Draco smiled and brought his legs alongside Harry's chest, and lowered his head until their faces were only an inch apart. "And do you have any idea what that is, Potter?"  
  
"No, but I'm sure you're about to show me."  
  
Draco grinned and dropped his face and kissed Harry on the mouth.  
  
At first Harry was still beneath him, but after the first moments of the kiss he began struggling. He wrenched his mouth from Draco's and tried to pull back.  
  
Green started up at Draco. Then—"Get off me, you fag. Go find someone else to rub yourself on. I hear the statues are all open for personal fucking."  
  
Draco jumped off the bed. "You'll take that back someday, Potter, I swear. But before I go..." Draco bent over and whispered something in Harry's ear. Then he turned around and left the infirmary without glancing back at the boy in the bed.  
  
***  
  
Three days later Harry was up and about, cured of Draco's...unspeakable jinx. It was March and most people found the weather outside too chilly for their tastes. Still, a fair number of students were gathered outside.  
  
Harry sat with Hermione and Ron on the stone benches of the courtyard. The other two were talking and sometimes Harry would add a comment on a certain topic, but really he was waiting for someone to walk through the courtyard. Finally Harry spotted him and got up to meet him. Hermione and Ron followed behind, puzzled.  
  
"Well, well, Draco Malfoy," said Harry. "You know, I've been thinking about what you said the other day."  
  
"Kiss my ass!" Draco broke in.  
  
"Oh, I intend to, eventually," Harry said smoothly. "After I finish with everything else, that is."  
  
Harry was aware of Ron and Hermione about to pass out behind him, and even Draco was standing and gaping at him. Harry smiled and allowed himself to be led away by his two best friends. As he went he brushed against Draco's arm and dropped a note into his hand.  
  
Draco slipped the folded paper into his pocket as the trio left. As soon as he was alone and away from prying eyes however, he opened it.  
  
Meet me in that old storage room in  
  
the dungeons at 11:00 tonight.  
  
Draco burned the note with his wand so no one could find the evidence later. Then he went to his common room to wait for the appointed time.  
  
A/N: As I said, I don't know if I'll go any further on this. Although I did get some ideas as I finished typing it. But anyway I hope you liked it. X3 


	2. News in a Closet

A/N: Yay!!!!! Thank you all so much for reviewing, it really helps! And it's always really fun to read reviews, so keep it up!!!! ^.^  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Except the plot. Also, there are yaoi- slash-ai shounen relationships in this ff. So if you don't like that.........Don't read it!!!!  
  
Chapter 2:  
  
At 10:45 Harry Potter went up to his dormitory, feigning tiredness. He crossed the room and opened the chest at the end of his bed. He pulled out his invisibility cloak, and slipped into it before anyone could walk in and find him.  
  
He left Gryffindor tower and took the long way down to the dungeons. On the way there he had plenty of time to think about what he was going to do. He could hardly believe what he was going to go do. He was seriously thinking about and considering what Draco had said to him. And now he was starting to think of Malfoy as Draco. It had only been three days!  
  
Truthfully, Malfoy had given him ideas if nothing else. Since the mess with Cho last year, Harry couldn't seem to move on. He was no longer hung up her, but none of the other girls seemed attractive or caught his eye. Maybe it was time to turn to guys. But was Draco really a good place to start?  
  
Too late now. He was in the dungeons, standing in front of the door to the storage closet. He put his hand on the knob. It didn't move: locked. He was the first one there. He could leave now, Draco would think it was just a practical joke. Of course, Draco would be disappointed and hurt. And he would lock those feelings deep in his heart as a Malfoy and Slytherin should. Use them to fuel his black magic later on.  
  
"Alohamora," whispered Harry, and then, "lumos." He opened the storage closet door, walked inside, and closed it softly behind him.  
  
***  
  
Draco looked up from his copy of Stealthy Snitch to look at the clock above the Slytherin fireplace. Five to eleven, it said. He sighed in relief and put down his magazine. He got up and left the common room.  
  
It had taken him quite a bit of willpower not to pace the past eight hours. He understood why Harry had picked 11:00, but it was such a long wait.  
  
And he wasn't sure what was going to happen once he got there. Would Harry kiss him? Yell at him? Curse him? Kiss his ass, after he finished with else, as he had so eloquently put it? Laugh at him?  
  
Draco couldn't stop these thoughts running through his head, much as he wanted to, as he approached the door with feline steps. A faint illumination showed from under the door. Good. He had walked slowly to give Harry a chance to get there first, or to change his mind. But he was here. Draco allowed himself to be a little more hopeful.  
  
He opened the door and let himself in.  
  
***  
  
Harry watched the doorknob turn and the door glide open. Draco walked inside and closed it behind him. The light from Harry's wand lit up Draco's form from below, casting eerie shadows and twisting his face into something that wasn't entirely human.  
  
Draco walked to a sidewall of the rather cluttered storage closet. A torch was held there in a bracket, and Draco cast a yellow fire into it, letting light into all the corners of the closet. Harry put out his wand.  
  
It was a large storage closet. If there hadn't been so much stuff in it you could have fit in a hippogriff with room for a person to walk around it.  
  
For a moment, both of them were silent. Draco seemed to be searching and sizing up his face and posture. Harry could only stare back. "Well?" said Draco finally.  
  
"I," said Harry, and had to clear his throat. "I'm glad you came."  
  
"When Harry Potter asks for my presence, who am I to refuse?" said Draco with a smile that could have been self-mocking.  
  
"You're the Prince of Slytherin, you can refuse whatever you want," said Harry sourly, mistaking the tone.  
  
"Is that what you think? That I can make my own choices, refuse or accept whatever I want?" Draco asked with a scowl and a grimace.  
  
Harry swallowed. This wasn't what he had wanted to happen. He had wanted to say something very different to Draco. Harry meant to talk with Draco, not argue. They would never get this solved if they couldn't speak to each other for more than three seconds.  
  
***  
  
Draco stood with his fists clenched inside his robes. It was just like Potter to think that of him. It pissed him off very badly. He had come expecting—hoping for—some kind of acquiescence, or bargain, or even a duel. Potter making assumptions about his life wasn't something he liked at all.  
  
"I don't see anything stopping you," said Harry.  
  
"Well, I wish I were you then, Potter," said Draco. Something inside of him cringed at the knowledge that they were back on last name terms.  
  
"Name one thing you can't refuse, Draco Malfoy," Harry said.  
  
"My future," Draco spat. "The future my father arranged for me, and laid out in front of my feet. As far as he and the Dark Lord are concerned, I'm a servant of You-Know-Who now and forever. Nothing I try to do can ever change that." Harry was vigorously shaking his head before he had even finished talking.  
  
"No, you still have a choice. What about my godfather? Or your aunt Andromeda? They didn't do what the rest of their family did. They took their own path. You can too."  
  
"It's too late for me. They weren't sorted into Slytherin. They spent their years in Hogwarts in other houses, grew up at school in a totally different way. I don't have that option," Draco said.  
  
"I think you're wrong. Those two may have been sorted into other houses, but they still had to go against their family. It wasn't the house they were in that matters, it was what was inside their heart to fight with the good side. You're not your father, Draco, your life is your own, and you can do whatever you want with it."  
  
Draco was speechless. None of this had particularly occurred to him before. He had forgotten that Sirius Black was a sort of cousin to him, and he had never met his Aunt Andromeda. They had both defied their families' pureblood ideals.  
  
"Of course I'm not Lucious, but is it possible...do you think I can change who I am?" Draco's voice started out arrogant and slipped to a pleading tone. He watched Harry carefully, waiting for the answer.  
  
"It's just a choice, Draco. You're already here, aren't you?" Harry hesitated and bit his lip, trying to decide something Draco guessed. His deep green eyes stared at the floor and then up into Draco's. He opened his mouth to say more when something fell through the wall, and they both jumped.  
  
"Well, well, what's this?" said Peeves. "Planning a Gryffindor- Slytherin slumber party?" He cocked his head with an air of curiosity, then laughed. He opened the closet door and stuck his head outside it. "Oh, Mrs. Norris!" he called.  
  
"C'mon!" said Harry, grabbing Draco's hand and pulling them in the opposite direction. Half of Draco's mind lingered on the happy sensation of Harry holding his hand, and the other half wondered if he should be the one doing the pulling since he knew the dungeons. *I could find us someplace nice and *cozy,** Draco thought. But as they turned the first corner, Harry pulled them to a stop.  
  
"Wait," said Harry, fumbling around in his robe.  
  
"What are you—"Draco tugged on his hand, but Harry stood firm.  
  
"Just wait." Harry pulled something from his robes.  
  
"We don't have time to—"Draco was beginning when he felt something settle on his shoulders and head. Harry was gone, and his arm had disappeared; when he looked down, the rest of him was gone too. "What the hell...." he stated.  
  
"Invisibility cloak," said Harry and pulled on his hand again. They headed for the stairs that would take them to the ground floor of Hogwarts. Draco struggled not to trip, not really knowing how to move with the cloak on.  
  
They stopped just outside a courtyard filled with pooled moonlight. The air was crisp as winter drew closer, and their white breath floated on it. Harry pulled the cloak off them and they sat on a stone bench, facing the courtyard. They were silent, comfortable.  
  
Draco turned to look Harry in the eye. "What," he said, at last breaking the silence, "were you going to say before Peeves interrupted?"  
  
"I, well..." Harry stammered. Draco's interest deepened: Harry appeared to blushing slightly. Harry sighed. "I suppose it doesn't matter that much," he said. "I was just going to tell you...that when we were sorted, in first year, the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. It didn't because I asked it not too."  
  
Draco could think of nothing to say. Several thoughts whirled through his head. Harry Potter in *Slytherin*? Wow. But he only said lightly, "I suppose you only asked that because I had made such an ass of myself the first couple days."  
  
"Well, yeah," Harry admitted.  
  
Draco just watched Harry. Watched his eyes. When he leaned in closer those eyes closed. Draco was just inches away when Harry gasped and jumped back, pulling his hand out of Draco's. "I can't," he said. "I can't kiss you yet, Draco."  
  
Draco nodded his understanding and Harry back away. When he had disappeared from sight, Draco put his head on his knees and sat.  
  
******  
  
A/N: Whew, finally done. By the way feel free to replace that last word "sat" with sighed if you want. I couldn't really decide.  
So, I wrote another chapter. I'm sure everyone's thrilled. I'm happy, but I'm honestly not sure if they'll do anything together, because, well, I'm not sure I could write it and publish it.  
Anyway, thanks again for reviewing!!! I really appreciate it!! The more reviews the sooner I'll think of the next chapter! 


	3. Say Goodnight

A/N: All right, the first chapter of this says it takes place in March. Well, I "lied." . It takes place in November. I said March way back when, when I had no future plot line. Fortunately for all of you who like reading this, I now have the basic plot outline all figured out. I think it shall be good! And I will try to update in reasonable amounts of time.  
  
I would also like to say that I wrote most of this chapter on my laptop while laying on my bed, and my body was like this -- most of the time. I hope everyone apprieciates what I went through for this. XD  
  
A short thanks list bcuz I don't like taking up room: unmei3---your stuff rocks! Kaylie---everyone agrees with you so I have. Maggoe---thanks chica! Bad-Azz-SlytherinChaos---yuppers. SilentShadow007---okey dokey TURNER---I can't tell yet!! Siren of the Darknessflame---Not yet, we need suspense! yaoi-is-gay-13---not telling yet :) Rena---thanks, I'm working on it. kat---it won't be too sad, I'm working on updates! cardboardboxkid---thank you very much ladies and gentleman, I try. The book details are always in my head. ;) thanks EVERYONE!  
  
Chapter 3:  
  
Breakfast in the Great Hall Monday morning was much too raucous in Harry, Hermione and Ron's opinion. Everyone was in too good a mood. Gryffindor had absolutely stomped Ravenclaw on the Saturday match although it had been a very foul game.  
  
When the three of them walked into the Great Hall, Colin Creevy motioned them over to some seats he had saved. Harry lowered himself down very carefully; he felt like someone had beaten him over the weekend.  
  
"Feeling better?" Colin asked much too brightly.  
  
"Sure, Colin," Harry said.  
  
"I didn't think Madame Pomfrey was going to let you out of the hospital ward in time for your victory party. You looked pretty bad when Ron first helped you off the field."  
  
"Yeah, I bet," Harry muttered, and turned to his friends. "How can they still all be celebrating? It's Monday."  
  
"I dunno," said Ron, "but it was a really nasty game. Everyone was glad to see you get the Snitch and finish it. Ravenclaw almost beat us. When's class?"  
  
"Twenty minutes, in the greenhouse," said Hermione through gritted teeth. She had her eye on some first years who were acting up at the end of the table.  
  
"Oy, we've got to hurry up!" said Ron. "I need a conclusion for my paper on spindle roots!"  
  
"Let's see it," said Hermione.  
  
Ron dug around in his bag. And then dug some more. "Dammit, I forgot it!"  
  
"Let's go and get it then," said Hermione. "There's something I want to get before Arithmancy anyway."  
  
"Coming, Harry?"  
  
"No, I'll wait here for you, or at the greenhouses," Harry said, picking up some more toast.  
  
"Right." In a couple seconds they were gone. Harry looked around the Hall, and didn't bother making conversation with anyone. Everyone near him was chatting happily away. Harry let his gaze wander.  
  
He wasn't really looking forward to class. The bruises and sores all over his body made it hard to concentrate on anything else. Last night he had asked Hermione to go over his homework, just to make sure it all made sense. He had had to fix to major parts of his History of Magic report alone.  
  
One thing he would admit: the Ravenclaw team had two excellent beaters. He'd been hit by bludgers more times than he could remember. There had been sleet coming down, and harsh winds blowing through the stadium. And three separate times during the game, he and Cho had ran each other into the sides of the pitch. Bad visibility and slippery brooms had made it hard to judge distance and speed, and he smashed into the wall hard every time. Cho had fared a little better because she was lighter, but Ron had nearly had to drag Harry into the infirmary after the game. He had spent the night there with some potions to help him feel better, and to heal the minor internal wounds he received. He'd slept a lot of Sunday as well. Now he simply hurt all over.  
  
With a start Harry realized where he had been staring for at least a minute. At Malfoy, who sat on the facing side of the Slytherin table. Before he looked away, Malfoy turned to look at him. He stared coolly into Harry's gaze. Harry was the one to break the look off, turning his eyes to the other tables and not letting himself go red, in case anyone might be watching.  
  
When it was ten minutes until the beginning of Herbology Harry got up and left the Gryffindor table. The rest of the students with morning class were all trickling out and Harry drifted his way down to the greenhouses with a group of Hufflepuffs. Any other day he would have waited for Ron and Hermione, or walked down with Seamus and Dean, but today was different. The same way that everyone was too cheerful for a Monday morning, he didn't feel like waiting for them.  
  
Herbology passed quickly enough, and then History of Magic finally ended. Harry hadn't seen Malfoy since breakfast, but he did on his way to the Great Hall for lunch. Only a few corridors from the Great Hall, Hermione, Ron and Harry came across Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were just waiting for someone worth bothering.  
  
"Well, well, Potter," said Malfoy. "It's a shame you were able to join us today; I thought maybe that quidditch match had finished you off. I saw you sitting down pretty carefully this morning, just where did that bludger hit you?" He laughed nastily and Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind him.  
  
"Sod off, Malfoy," said Harry.  
  
"What, no comment? Won't you even tell us what you and Chang were doing alone in the infirmary?" Harry had been walking toward the Great Hall. Now he swung around to face Malfoy and reached for his wand. Ron and Hermione grabbed at his elbows and dragged him backwards.  
  
"Don't worry, Malfoy," Ron said. "Your turn at getting beat at quidditch is coming up soon!" The two of them got Harry turned around and pulled him towards lunch.  
  
They were sitting down and choosing their lunches before anyone said anything. "You know, Harry," said Hermione in a careful tone, picking up a roast beef sandwich, "it's good to see you fighting with Malfoy. Not that fighting is good," she added hurriedly.  
  
"Maybe not, but that thing you said to Malfoy last Thursday...that was creepy, Harry," Ron said, looking at anxiously Harry's face.  
  
"Just messing around with him," said Harry, not looking up at either of them.  
  
"Glad to hear it," said Ron. "For a while there I'd thought you'd gone mental."  
  
"Nope," said Harry forcefully.  
  
Ron looked at Hermione's plate. "Hermione, why on earth would you take a roast beef sandwich?!"  
  
"Because, Ron," said Hermione with her all-knowing look, "it's less work for the house elves."  
  
Harry ate his lunch and joked around with Hermione and Ron, and made certain that he didn't look in Malfoy's direction.  
  
Harry got through his day, somehow not really thinking about anything. Nothing felt right all day; he was in a strange mood and Hermione and Ron noticed it and didn't press him too hard for anything. When they were in the library doing homework that evening and Harry had finished only everything that was due the next day, he left. Ron and Hermione let him go. He didn't head straight for Gryffindor tower, but decided to walk around the castle. He wandered from one floor to the next as it got later and later. He didn't stumble across Malfoy until about 9:30.  
  
He came around a corner on a corridor that was little used and wound its way through some the fourth floor of Hogwarts. Harry saw Malfoy sitting on a large window seat, with a lantern in front of him, and parchments and books spread out around him. He had his back against the wall, with his legs stretched comfortably out in front of him. A book was resting on his lap. His head was bent down studiously over his book, with the lantern light shining softly on his hair. He had a look of fierce, careful concentration on his face. He didn't look like Malfoy at all; he looked like Draco.  
  
Harry realized after a moment that he had caught his breath. He let it out again; turned around.  
  
Draco must have heard him, or seen the movement. His voice came softly out of the darkness: "Don't go."  
  
Harry turned around with one eyebrow raised. "No?" he said quietly, cynically.  
  
"No."  
  
Draco said it softly. He was staring at Harry with a strange look in his eyes, waiting to see what he would do next. Harry was waiting too. When he had Draco tell him "don't go," his first reaction was a flash of hope. But it disappeared in an instant, and was replaced by a quiet anger. He wanted to hurt Malfoy and be as sarcastic as possible. But Malfoy's one- word answer had quieted him in an instant. And now he didn't know what to do next.  
  
The silent words now what? passed between them.  
  
"I wouldn't blame you if you did," said Draco, "but I wish you'd stay."  
  
Harry tried to make up his mind; move one direction or another. This meeting was as odd as the rest of the day had been; he wasn't sure what to do. After a minute he stepped forward, and walked over to the window seat. Draco leaned forward to pick up his books and parchment, and tucked his legs under him; he dumped his things onto the floor. Harry sat down carefully, not disturbing anything, not getting too close to Draco. They sat on opposite sides of the window seat, with the lantern between them. Draco kept watching Harry, and Harry didn't know what to think so he looked out the window. The grounds were dark and empty. Clouds passed across a waning moon. Harry couldn't see anything moving but the wind.  
  
"I'm sorry that I've been such an ass," said Draco, looking at Harry's face.  
  
Harry didn't turn from the window. His arms were wrapped around his knees, and now his fists clenched. Draco saw his mouth tighten in the lamplight. But he didn't move, didn't say anything. Draco waited, aching a bit as the silence stretched. It was several minutes before Harry said anything.  
  
"Why are you such an ass?" said Harry, turning abruptly. He was glaring at Draco; he was angry again, and Draco could feel it filling the space between them.  
  
Draco stretched a little and smiled a little, not very happy smile. "I mostly just do stuff like that out of habit. Doesn't that sound pathetic?" Harry just looked at him with derisive look on his face. "I start it before I even think about what I'm doing, and then it's too late to stop in the middle of something.  
  
"I don't want to back down. I don't want people to start saying things about me: Draco can't keep up with Gryffindors anymore, Malfoy's lost his touch. Making hell for you, Ron and Hermione is about all my reputation's based on." Draco's face twisted with bitterness.  
  
"I don't know about that. Most people I know think you're just nasty in general. Do you even like saying all those things about us?"  
  
"I thought that maybe if I kept giving you a hard time no one would notice what I really thought about you. It would give me a good reason to stare at you, and no one would suspect anything." Draco tried to keep his eyes on Harry's face. Something made it important to look at Harry for as long as he could, even if it was one of the hardest things he had ever done.  
  
Harry, on the other hand, could not face Draco much at all. He squimed and his face flushed a little. "You know," he said a little impulsively, "people know you for your quidditch too."  
  
"Thanks, I'm relieved," said Draco dryly. He looked a little closer at Harry. "You're blushing. I do believe it's something I've said. You know," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning forward just a bit, "I'm not the only one who finds excuses to look at you. You're a pretty cute guy."  
  
Harry flushed even more. "Yeah, well, you're not so bad yourself," he said quickly to cover it up. "You're probably one of the hottest guys in the school."  
  
"Probably?! One of?!" Draco acted shocked and offended. "I can't imagine there being any doubt in you're mind that I am the hottest guy in this school."  
  
"What about Zabini?"  
  
"He's all right I suppose, if you go for that kind of thing."  
  
"David Farren."  
  
"Too much attitude."  
  
"Lee Jordan."  
  
"Cute, but not hot."  
  
Harry held back a snort. "Justin Finch-Fletchley?" Before he could stop himself, a laugh burst out.  
  
Draco had a look of mock revulsion on his face. "Him?! My god, no, he's much too straight!"  
  
"Well, you're definitely the hottest prefect," said Harry pretending to think about it, "but Matthew Shan definitely has the better body."  
  
"You must be joking! That pasty seventh year? I don't believe it. Besides, there's just an empty head floating around on those shoulders. With me, you get the body and the brains."  
  
"What an ego," said Harry, laughing. He looked Draco straight in the eye for almost the first time they had been sitting there. "Weren't we just fighting?"  
  
"Yep," Draco said, leaning back comfortably. "Must be true love."  
  
Harry snorted, "You've been reading too many fairy tales."  
  
"I always liked fairy tales. They always end the way everyone wants them too. I haven't had many chances at happy endings." The grin faded from Draco's face; he looked somberly across at Harry. "I don't think you have either."  
  
Harry's face crumpled. His breath rasped into his chest. Draco, looking concerned, scooted over and tried to pull the other boy into his arms. Harry flinched away, and resisted his hold. But he didn't move away when Draco settled on arm around his shoulders. Draco pulled them just a little closer together. He looked at Harry's face and was surprised to see a tear running down it. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Harry," Draco whispered.  
  
Harry brushed roughly at the tear. "You didn't, it's not you," he said thickly. "I...I..." Draco waited patiently. "It's just that Sirius didn't get a happy ending. He didn't even get a chance at one, and I get to go on living." Harry broke down just a little more, though he was trying hard not to cry.  
  
Draco's insides were clenched together, but he kept his body relaxed. He stroked Harry's hair, and kept an open look on his face.  
  
"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I don't mean to cry, I just...I haven't cried very much over him. I shouldn't cry. I just..."  
  
"You should cry," said Draco firmly. "If you don't grieve, you'll just hurt yourself more by keeping it inside. I've cried lots of times over my father."  
  
Harry stared at him. "Your father...your father helped...your dad..." he tried to say, but he couldn't. His face was flushed and blotchy red from his small bout of tears.  
  
"Yes, my father was a part of the group that killed Sirius," Draco said.  
  
"And you cried over him, when the Ministry caught him?!" Harry said explosively. He pulled away from Draco, his whole body rigid and shaking.  
  
"Not when the Ministry caught him," said Draco heavily. "Lots of times before and since, though."  
  
Harry looked at him. "Why?"  
  
Draco looked at the wall across the corridor. "I've seen him do all kinds of terrible things. I've seen him hurt a lot of people. I've watched learn all those dark spells. I've seen him carry out his Master's orders. He's asked me...." Draco broke off. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "Let's just say he's given me plenty of things to cry about."  
  
Harry was watching him. Draco stared back. They both looked pretty shaken up. "I can't believe you just said that," said Harry. Draco shrugged. Harry thought back on Draco's speech. "His master's orders?" he asked.  
  
"Only his," said Draco. "I'm not a Death Eater, Harry." He pushed up the left sleeve of his robes, showed his arm to Harry. Harry looked it over; touched his fingers to Draco's skin. Draco put his right hand over Harry's. "You see? I'm not a Death Eater and I never will be."  
  
"But, your father...." Harry was staring at their hands.  
  
"Hush," said Draco firmly, but quietly. "I don't want to talk about my father." They were close, and it was warm in their corner, but Draco doubted he was the only one who was uncomfortable.  
  
"Why don't you want to talk about your father?" Harry asked softly.  
  
"I will, some other time. I just can't right now." Draco blew his breath out. He scooted back so he could lean against his side of the window seat, and looked across at Harry. "This is a really exhausting conversation, you know that?"  
  
"I've noticed," said Harry, leaning back himself.  
  
They sat not saying anything at all. Harry's attention drifted back to the window, outside of which, nothing was going on at all. He jumped a few minutes later when Draco said, "Do you mind if I get my stuff out again? I just have one essay left for tomorrow."  
  
Harry turned back to him. "Sure," he said, contentedly. Draco smiled back at him. He pulled a parchment and ink out of his bag, and opened up one of his books. Harry turned back to the window. He let his eyes and his mind glaze over while the sound of Draco's scratching quill filled their section of the corridor.  
  
When Harry came back to himself, things looked much the same way they did when he had tuned them out. He turned his head to look at Draco when he realized the sounds of the quill had stopped. Draco was smiling at him; his hand was still above his parchment.  
  
"What did I do?" Harry asked.  
  
"I couldn't tell if you were dozing or not, so I left you alone," said Draco.  
  
"I think I am getting tired." Harry got up and stretched.  
  
"We've been here for ages," said Draco, "I'm not surprised."  
  
"I don't think I can sit here with you any longer. I really want to go to bed."  
  
"That's fine," said Draco. "We'll see each other tomorrow. Then again, you might want to avoid me during the day. I'm not so good at holding myself back, and I'm sick of hurting you."  
  
"Wasn't that a fairy tale too? The child who was a demon during the day and transformed at night?"  
  
Draco laughed. "Yeah, didn't you know that story was based on me?" He looked up at Harry. "How are you going to say good night?"  
  
Harry was speechless. He stared down at Draco, tried to think of something to say. "I...I...oh, what the hell." He bent down, cupped Draco's face in his hands, and kissed him on the mouth. It was a short, very chaste kiss.  
  
Draco ran his tongue over his lip as he looked up at Harry. "Not bad. How many people have you kissed?"  
  
"You're the second," said Harry, a little breathless.  
  
"I'm honored. Now try again, more like this." Draco pulled their heads together. Lips met lips, tongue met tongue, for a much more satisfying kiss. Harry pulled back first, and Draco let him go. Harry was breathing heavily, and he looked a little scared.  
  
"Good night, Draco," he said. Draco didn't say anything, just smiled at him. Harry turned to go; began walking down the corridor.  
  
"Good night, Sleeping Beauty," Draco called after him. He couldn't keep a happy grin off his face as he bent over the end of his essay.  
  
A/N: Whoo-hoo! It worked, I'm Happy!!! :D I just realized that I've ended every chapter with Draco. - 


	4. Battered and Bruised

A/N: This chapter has lots of important stuff in it, to be followed by some fluff in the next chapter. I dont know why, but I really like when people in stories get really hurt or sick, and everyone else has to look after them. Hence, the following events.  
P.S. One of the beaters names is real, the other I had to make up. I made up the Jeremy kid.  
  
Thanks to: Picc136—slow is what I do ;) green eyed dragon, Thanks much! 6 and to Catmint, I believe, who sent me an email review! Sorry this is later than I meant.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of Harry Potter. Last chappie I forgot this, but I didn't own any then either. I made up some names.  
  
Chapter 4:  
  
Harry was sitting between his two friends at lunch the next day before they started questioning. They had been a bit wary to ask anything last night, given his mood, and this morning he had been both sleepy and thoughtful.  
  
"Harry, where did you disappear to last night? You, you don't really look so good," Hermione asked, careful in case he was going to blow up at her.  
  
"I just decided to walk around the castle," Harry said with a shrug.  
  
"After curfew, without your cloak?" said Ron. "You're braver than me. But then, I had more homework left than you."  
  
Harry looked like he was considering something, and Hermione and Ron let him think. "Did you think yesterday was kind of weird?" Harry asked them a minute later.  
  
"Not really," said Hermione.  
  
"Yeah, a bit," said Ron. "I mean, everyone was still so excited about Gryffindor's win, and you, well, you were in an odd mood, mate." Ron's face was a bit red, and he was watching Harry with an embarrassed look.  
  
"Yeah, I was," said Harry. "Maybe that's what it was." He picked up his food and began eating. The thoughtful look came back to his face; Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.  
  
Ron and Hermione talked back and forth for the rest of lunch with Harry half listening to them. He got up as soon as he had finished. "I have a few things I want to get from the tower before class," he told them. "I'll just go and get them while you finish. And don't forget, Ron," he called out as he walked toward the entrance, "we have Quidditch practice later." Behind him Ron groaned.  
  
Harry climbed up the stairs, all the way to the seventh floor. There weren't many other students the halls. Everyone was intent on getting their lunch, or looking in the library for their next class. When Harry reached Gryffindor tower, the common room was completely deserted. He ran up the steps to his dormitory, and began searching his belongings for some needed papers.  
  
Draco and Harry had talked for a long time the night before. Harry had returned to the common room much later than he expected. Hermione and Ron were waiting up for him, but he didn't have much to tell them. With nothing to say, and all their homework finished, they went up to bed almost right away. But Harry couldn't sleep. He heard Ron drift off beside him, and the other boys snoring, but he had an awful case of insomnia. His conversation with Draco played over and over again in his head. He examined all of it, wondering over almost every sentence. Had he said the right thing, did Draco really use that tone of voice? Harry couldn't believe that he had just a complete, more than friendly conversation with Malfoy. Except he hadn't been talking with Malfoy, not the Malfoy he knew. He had been talking to Draco. He had been talking to the actual person inside that blonde body, not the façade kept up for others.  
  
He wondered what his friends would say if they knew. Well, he didn't really wonder, he knew that they would be rather disgusted, and kind of confused. He knew that he could probably never tell them what was going on, not matter how long he and Draco...hung out, were together? What were they anyway, he wondered. Hermione might be able to accept that Harry was now interested in guys, even if she didn't understand about Draco, but Ron...Ron wouldn't get it at all.  
  
All these thoughts had whirled around Harry's head for hours the night before. He hadn't fallen asleep until two or three in the morning. And ever since he had woken up, he had spent most of his time thinking about it as well. Classes had been hard to concentrate on this morning, and he was going to have to ask Hermione for some of her notes. He was mostly just glad that he didn't have any classes with Draco until Thursday. That would have been a little too distracting this morning.  
  
Harry grabbed the papers he needed for Transfiguration and left the tower. On the way back to the Great Hall, he saw Draco with Zabini, walking the other way, talking about Quidditch. Their eyes met for just a moment before they both moved on.  
  
At 4:00 Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the rest of the Gryffindor team met in the Quidditch locker rooms. There was a cold rain coming down outside, and the sky looked stormy. Harry had a few things that he wanted to show the team on the board. He had a new flight strategy for his Chasers, and a few techniques he wanted to point out to the Beaters. Besides Ginny, there were two 3rd year Chasers. They were pretty good, but inexperienced. Harry had also had to get rid of one of the Beaters Alicia had picked out last year; he wasn't improving enough, and when Harry held try-outs he had found a second year who was much better. The second year was also inexperienced, so Harry had to get him trained up as soon as possible. Fifteen minutes later the team left the locker room to practice on the pitch.  
  
"You know," said Ron, "I'm glad they made you the captain, Harry."  
  
"Well, it only makes sense," said Ginny. "He's played longer than any of us."  
  
"Yeah, but I would hate having to do all that work and figure out everything all the time," said Ron.  
  
"Why do you think I always talk about Quidditch with you? I'm using you to help me figure out the next game," said Harry, getting on his broom. He raised his voice so the rest of the team could hear him. "I want the chasers to all go down to the Gryffindor end. Jeremy, Andrew, and I will come toward you; Ron will be guarding the opposite end. Use our new flight pattern I showed you." He flew to the opposite end of the pitch with the Beaters, and all the Chasers flew to the Gryffindor end. He used a hand signal to start them, and everyone took off.  
  
The Chasers had a good idea of what they were doing, and they didn't need as much practice, so Harry had Jeremy and Andrew practice their Beating skills, and pulled Ron off the goal posts to take their place. The rain was coming down harder than ever and turning into sleet. Visibility was bad. Harry flew with the Chasers and tried to keep an eye on the Beaters. They knew what they were supposed to be practicing, but they were clumsy fliers and it took them a lot of tries to get it right. Harry noticed and flew up to help them while having one of the third year girls fly on Ron's side.  
  
Harry tried to focus on his Beaters, but an argument broke out between Ron and Ginny, and play had stopped. The third years hovered off to the side, not wanting to get in the middle of anything.  
  
Harry was about to fly down to them when a Bludger came hurling out of nowhere and thudded into his right side. He was nearly thrown off his broom. He was leaning over the handle gasping for breath and resettling his glasses when the second Bludger pelted him on the other side, nearly unseating him a second time.  
  
He drifted down to the ground in a slow spiral, not really aware of what he was doing. He felt rather than saw Ron fly down beside him.  
  
"Harry? Harry! Are you all right, mate?" Ron asked bending over him. His face was paler than usual. Ginny, the Chasers and the Beaters crowded around.  
  
"I'm fine," said Harry. He'd wrapped his arms around his chest.  
  
"Come off it, mate," said Ron. "You're not fine! Those Bludgers hit you damn hard!" His head swung around and he glared at Jeremy and Andrew.  
  
"Leave them alone," said Harry roughly. He stood up. "That's what practice is for, to make sure this happens now, not during a game. Let's keep at it, we've got about half an hour before we have to head back. Let's go!"  
  
Ron was shaking his head, but mounted his broom anyway. The team flew up into the air and started practicing again.  
  
Half an hour later they met back on the ground and as a group made their way back to the castle. They had all decided there was no point stopping for a shower or changing their robes since they would be drenched long before they got indoors. By the time they reached the castle steps, almost everyone's teeth were chattering.  
  
"I wish the wind wasn't so bad," Ron muttered to Harry. "It would have been quicker to fly back."  
  
"No kidding."  
  
Supper was just beginning in the Great Hall, so they all went inside to join their fellow students. Harry, Ron and Ginny broke off from the younger four, and went to sit with Hermione and some others. Hermione stared at them. "You guys are really soaked," she said scooting over and looking concerned.  
  
"The weather's awful," said Ron brightly, reaching for food.  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes as she filled her plate, but more slowly than her brother. "There wasn't any time to change before dinner," she said.  
  
"You could all get really sick," Hermione said, still worried.  
  
"Come on, Hermione, I think we'll survive for half an hour," said Ron around a mouthful of meatloaf. "You know what I really would like right now, Harry?" he asked.  
  
"A hot shower with absolutely nothing you need to think about or do afterwards?"  
  
"Yep," said Ron with a blissful look.  
  
"Look, I hate to ruin your hopes, but do you realize how much homework we have to finish by tomorrow? We have Potions without the Slytherins tomorrow, and double Potions with them the next day," said Hermione.  
  
"Oh good, just what we need, double Potions with Malfoy," growled Ron.  
  
"I'd be more worried about three Potion classes with Snape without your homework finished," said Hermione pointedly. Ron and Harry groaned.  
  
"All right, all right, we'll work on the homework," Ron said.  
  
"Looks like the hot shower's going to have to wait, mate," said Harry to Ron.  
  
"Yep." The rest of dinner didn't take long, and soon Ron, Hermione and Harry were marching up to the tower. Ron and Harry went straight to their dormitory for dry clothes and to find their homework. Then they went back down the stairs to meet Hermione.  
  
"Uh, why don't you two go along without me? I have to go to the bathroom. I'll meet you two in the library in a few minutes," said Harry.  
  
"Sure," said Ron without arguing, "we'll see you in a bit, Harry." Ron pulled on Hermione's elbow without seeming too, and Harry got the feeling they were going to talk about him. He didn't care much, and there wasn't a lot he could do about it. He ran back up the stairs to use the bathroom, but not the toilet. He turned the lights on full, stood in front of the mirror, slipped out of his robes, and pulled off his shirt.  
  
He was a bit shocked by what he found even without turning. He had two huge new bruises, one on each side, overlapping with the purpling ones he already had. He turned slowly, and looked over his shoulder. Big bruises were spread out over his muscles. They were fresh and very sore. Harry was glad the lights had been out in the dormitory. If Ron had seen these, he would have made Harry go straight to the infirmary.  
  
Harry pulled his shirt and his robes back on and left the bathroom. Passing through the common room, several people called out to him. He smiled and nodded, but climbed out the portrait hole.  
  
Harry was about to take the staircase that would take him closest to the library when he changed his mind. He walked further along the seventh floor, and took another staircase. Then took another and another. At the fourth floor, he wandered around until he found the winding corridor. He turned the first corner. Then a second. And the third. Then a little bit further on, the fourth and fifth. After the seventh corner, he found what he was looking for.  
  
Draco was sitting in the same window seat, working on homework. He was facing the same direction as the last night, but Harry had approached from the opposite direction tonight. He had a perfect view. Draco's head snapped up when Harry came around the corner, and there was a startled look on his face. That vanished and was replaced by a smile.  
  
"So," Draco said. "You found me."  
  
"I was wondering if you'd be here tonight. I just thought I'd check," said Harry.  
  
"I'm here almost every night. We set it up ages ago. Trying to do my homework in the Slytherin common room annoyed me, so I spoke with Professor Snape. He and Dumbledore set it up so I could use this corner of the hall without being disturbed and breaking curfew. I can stay here till midnight. A little longer if no one's around to check. I meant to tell you last night, but I forgot."  
  
"This is your night refuge," said Harry.  
  
"Away from Slytherin, and anything I don't want to be. You can come and find me here almost any night."  
  
Harry moved over to lean against the window edge at Draco's side. "That's good to know," he said. "I...I'd like to have a constant place where we can meet."  
  
"I'm not here every night," Draco said hurriedly. "Some nights when I have no homework, or when something is happening, I don't come."  
  
"That's all right. It's good enough," said Harry.  
  
"Settled then," said Draco. He shifted so he could lean his head against Harry and wrap an arm around his waist. He pulled back quickly when Harry flinched and gasped. He stared up into Harry's face. "Harry, what is it?"  
  
"Nothing," said Harry, "Quidditch bruises." Nonetheless his face was drawn, and his hands were clenched.  
  
"They seem pretty bad," said Draco cautiously. "Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey."  
  
"I already have, remember?" Harry snapped. He was silent for a moment then looked over Draco ruefully. "Sorry, but Ron and Hermione have been bothering me about it."  
  
"What are friends for?" said Draco sounding amused. But the feeling didn't quite reach his eyes. Hermione and Ron were allowed to bother him about his Quidditch wounds, but Draco couldn't. Couldn't yet.  
  
"Speaking of them—"Draco groaned inwardly—"I should be going. I said I would meet them in the library, and I'm already really late." Sure, Draco thought, they get to spend more time with you. They get to keep you away from me.  
  
"Too bad for me then," Draco said. "Maybe I'll come to the library just so I can watch you."  
  
"What would my friends say?" Harry joked.  
  
"I'll make sure to walk in after you do. And if they ask why I'm staring I'll just tell them I'm coming up with my next diabolical plan to get you all," Draco retorted.  
  
"Well, all right then," said Harry, standing straight.  
  
"Will you be back tomorrow?" Draco asked. He knew it didn't sound anxious, but he felt it all the same. He felt odd asking anyway. He was considering following Harry, but here they were, almost saying a goodbye. Because they could never speak anywhere else, not words that meant something.  
  
"I can't," said Harry, and Draco's heart sank just a little bit. "We've got an extra long astronomy class, so I'll be busy."  
  
"Thursday, then," said Draco.  
  
"Yeah, Thursday," said Harry, taking a few steps. He couldn't think of anything to say, and Draco wasn't offering anything; his head was bent over his work, and the smile had gone from his face. So Harry kept walking. Draco didn't stop him.  
  
Harry reached the library much later than he had intended too. Ron and Hermione were busy with their homework and the look on their faces when he walked up...the only word that came to his mind was disbelief.  
  
"What happened, mate, did you fall in?" Ron asked incredulously.  
  
"Sorry, I ended up taking the long way. There were some people in the common who wanted to talk to me." Both of these statements were true, they just didn't explain every thing that had gone on.  
  
"Harry, sit down, I'll have to explain this bit to you, Ron didn't understand it at all," Hermione motioned him over and the homework began.  
  
All the time Harry was in the library, Draco Malfoy didn't show up.  
  
Late, late that night Harry reflected on it while he took his very soothing, very relaxing hot shower. Everyone was asleep, so there was no one but Ron to contend with for the hot water.  
  
Harry wondered why Draco hadn't shown up. Harry had been there for hours, there would have been plenty of time to make a casual entrance. On the way to the library Harry had been imagining the scene in the library with Malfoy sitting at a table on the other side of the library from theirs. It had been just a joke, and Harry knew nothing was necessarily going to happen, but it had sounded like a good idea.  
  
Maybe Draco didn't care anymore. Maybe Harry had said something to turn him off without realizing. That would be a shame because Harry was just starting to like him.  
  
Harry worried it about in his mind as he got out of the shower. He was trying to get back into the dorm before Ron had finished his shower. He didn't want Ron to notice the new bruises. Still, he took his time drying off and getting into his pajamas. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even hear the other shower turn off. Harry left the room without seeing Ron standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping onto the floor with his mouth hanging open.  
  
The next morning Ron woke up very early. He crept down to the common room. There were few people around, but Ron saw a fifth year girl he sort of knew. He went up to her.  
  
"Will you do me a favor?" he asked.  
  
"I guess," the girl said, a little confused.  
  
"Go wake up Hermione Granger. Tell her Ron needs to see her in the common room, it's important," Ron said.  
  
"All right," said the girl. She got up from her chair and climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Ron paced back and forth anxiously with his hands in his pockets. A few minutes later Hermione appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in her robes, with the girl following. Ron walked quickly toward the stairs, and met Hermione near the middle of the room.  
  
"Why did you want to meet me, Ron?" Hermione asked, concerned for her friend.  
  
"It's about Harry," said Ron. Hermione's anxious look increased. "He did get hurt, like I thought. I saw him last night when he was getting dressed after his shower. He's got two awful new bruises."  
  
"Oh no," said Hermione. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Come look," Ron urged, pulling her toward the boys' dormitory steps. The fifth year girl had a strange look on her face as she watched them climb the stairs.  
  
Inside the dormitory everyone else was still sleeping. Hermione whispered a spell.  
  
"What will that do?" Ron whispered.  
  
"It will keep everyone in the room in their state of consciousness while the charm is still on. We'll stay awake and they'll all stay asleep until I take the charm off."  
  
"Cool," whispered Ron. They proceeded to Harry's bed. Hermione wasn't sure where to look, and Ron wasn't moving. "Hermione," he said, "are you sure we should do it this way? I mean, he's asleep, isn't it, I dunno...."  
  
"Oh come on, Ron, we're his best friends. You wouldn't care if we were playing a practical joke."  
  
"I guess you're right," Ron sighed. "Let's just hurry up." He pulled the blankets half off Harry and carefully pulled up the shirt of his pajamas.  
  
"Oh my. Oh, sweet Merlin, that's really bad, Ron," said Hermione sort of helplessly.  
  
"I know," said Ron grimly.  
  
"We've got to get him to the hospital wing. We've got to convince him to see Madame Pomfrey."  
  
"That's part of why I woke you up so early, you we would have plenty of time," said Ron. "I think we should wake him up, and take him there now, before breakfast. He won't be able to think of as many good arguments if he's half awake."  
  
"All right," said Hermione. She said the words that would lift the charm. Ron shook Harry awake gently by the shoulders. Harry was confused when he found the two of them waking him up.  
  
"Hermione, go wait in the common room. I'll help him get dressed," said Ron when Harry was sitting up. Hermione nodded and left. Harry put on his glasses, then Ron made him dress quickly without explaining why.  
  
Down in the common room, Hermione was waiting. As soon as they had left the portrait hole, they stood on either side of him to make sure he wouldn't try to get out of it. When Harry realized they were in the corridor outside the infirmary, he tried to pull away. Hermione and Ron grabbed his arms and practically dragged him into the infirmary wing.  
  
Madame Pomfrey was in her office at the back of the ward. She was surprised to find the three students knocking at her door at such an early hour. "What have you done now?" she said with a note of disapproval.  
  
"It's Harry, ma'am," said Ron. "There was an incident at Quidditch practice yesterday afternoon."  
  
"Tsk tsk. Come on, Potter, let's see." She led them to the last window of the ward where the light was better. Harry reluctantly slipped off his robes and pulled off his shirt so Madame Pomfrey could see.  
  
She wasted no time with surprised remarks, but she pursed her lips tightly at the sight. "How did you come by these bruises, Potter?" she asked in a professional tone.  
  
"A Bludger on both side, Professor," said Harry dully.  
  
"Hold out your arms, Potter, so I can see better," Madame Pomfrey instructed. She probed his chest with her fingers; he tried not to flinch. Not only did it hurt, her fingers were ice cold. She examined his right side first, then moved to his back, feeling all the different muscles there, noting the places where he winced. Then she examined his left side, and finally prodded his stomach a few times.  
  
"Well, Potter," she said. "You've done a lot of damage to yourself in only a few days time. I expect you have some internal wounds, it feels as if you do, and you've fractured a few ribs along with the bruises. Now, normally I could heal the bones right away, and ease the bruises, but there's the internal stuff. If I heal the fractures now, the internal injuries won't heal properly."  
  
Harry waited.  
  
"I'll need to make up a potion for the internal hurts. I may have to have Professor Snape help me. Naturally I'll tell him what it's for." Harry groaned inwardly. "It should be ready by lunch time, so you'll need to hold on till then. I will bring it too you. But I can ease the outer bruises right now. Not heal, mind you, but they will feel better."  
  
Madame Pomfrey bustled around her office and the ward for a minute before she returned. She had a jar of ointment that she rubbed onto the bruises, then she touched her wand to Harry's skin and said a spell. The soreness on the surface lessened immensely. Harry let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"There you go, Potter, that will do for now. Now you three head to breakfast now. I'll see you at lunch remember." The three left the ward and headed for the great hall.  
  
Draco was sandwiched in between two Slytherins in the Great Hall, trying not to watch Harry Potter at the Gryffindor table. It was lunchtime of the Wednesday when Harry couldn't visit him in the fourth floor corridor.  
  
"Malfoy, Malfoy, were you listening?" one of the seventh years was trying to talk to him: the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. "Practice is moved till tomorrow. The Gryffindors are using the pitch as well, but we'll use it after them."  
  



	5. Golden Slumbers I

A/N: This chappie has very simply been slipt in half with cut/paste for easier reading, and my sanity.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.  
  
Chapter 5:  
  
Harry managed to get through all of Double Potions on Thursday without staring at Draco. He barely looked at him. But just knowing he was sitting there across the room, was wreaking havoc on Harry's concentration. Luckily he was saved by having Hermione as a partner.  
  
"Really, Harry," she said, "you never make this many mistakes in Potions. What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing," Harry told her several times.  
  
The Gryffindor team marched out to the pitch after dinner that evening. Dusk was gathering, and the field was well lit. Harry called the others to him when they got there. "We have to begin our practice on the pitch right away; the Slytherins booked the field half an hour from now," he told them. There were exclamations of dismay from the rest of the team. "It's stupid, I know," he said, "but there's nothing I can do about it. Snape approved their request, so we just have to live with it. Let's not waste the time we have." They flew into the air, and began their practice.  
  
Half an hour later the Slytherin team showed up just on time.  
  
"Aren't you lot done yet?" the Slytherin captain called out.  
  
"Sure," said Harry, "we've had loads of time to practice."  
  
The captain scowled at him. He turned to his team, said something the Gryffindors couldn't hear. Half the Slytherins laughed. "Let's go give some real practice," said the captain louder. The Slytherins were in the air in a flash. Before the Gryffindors could react, the Quaffle had been snatched out of their hands, and their Beaters jostled for position. The Slytherins flew about the field and a new kind of game was started.  
  
The Slytherin Chasers made their way to the Gryffindor end. Ron caught the Quaffle, but he wouldn't release it.  
  
"Hey, what does your Keeper thinks he's doing, Potter?" the Slytherin captain shouted angrily.  
  
"We get your point. We're leaving," said Harry. He motioned to his team; they headed for the ground. The Slytherin captain smirked, and jerked his head toward his two Beaters. They zoomed off toward the Bludgers, then slowed sharply. Harry was heading for the ground and didn't pay any attention. Ginny, who had already landed, looked past him and shrieked, "Harry, look out!"  
  
"Wha...?" Harry's head swung around, but he was too late. Two Bludgers slammed into him simultaneously. Harry groaned, and slipped off his broom for the few feet to the ground. There was laughter behind him, a lot of it. He didn't look to see if they were all laughing. He didn't want to know.  
  
"Harry, are you all right?" Ron asked, white-faced.  
  
"Yeah," said Harry, making his way forward toward the Gryffindor locker rooms. "Just winded."  
  
The sound of the Slytherin laughter was shut off when they closed the locker room door. Ron was eyeing him closely. "Ron," Ginny said, coming to Harry's rescue, "hurry up. You have to help write that letter to Mum. You've got all tomorrow's homework finished, right?"  
  
"Yeah, we finished it this afternoon," said Ron. He stopped fiddling around, and headed for the showers in the boys' half of the locker room. Harry followed, more slowly.  
  
When he got there, his shower was quick, and he didn't waste any time getting dressed. When Ron came over to him, and tried to look nonchalant about it, Harry said, "I haven't got any new bruises, Ron, I'm just a bit sore."  
  
"All right then," said Ron, walking over to his things.  
  
The team trickled out of the locker rooms as soon as they had finished. Harry told Ron not to wait for him; as the team captain, he had to make sure everything was in order before he left, and he felt like doing it alone today. Ron went, but he didn't look very happy about it.  
  
When Harry left the locker room, shutting the door behind him, the Slytherins had just finished leaving theirs, where they had been discussing their tactics. At the edge of the field, Harry saw Draco look over and notice him. He heard Draco tell his captain he'd left something in the locker room; saw him jog in that direction. Harry went to meet him halfway.  
  
"Come on," said Draco quietly, making sure none of the others were looking. "In here." He pulled Harry into the Slytherin locker room. He dragged him all the way to the back of it.  
  
"Why here?" said Harry grimacing. "What do you want?"  
  
"This is the last place they think you would come. I wanted to make sure you were all right."  
  
"All right?"  
  
"Yes," said Draco impatiently. "Those Bludgers must have hurt."  
  
"They did," said Harry. He wasn't feeling very sympathetic toward Draco's feelings just now. "Did you think it was funny?"  
  
"Of course not," said Draco. A shadow was in his eyes. "I don't want to see them hurt you, Harry. I just don't know what I can do about it."  
  
Harry sighed. He was tired of all these stupid games. Tired of hurting all over. He had only been hiding for a week, and already was so tired.  
  
"Let me see, Harry," said Draco. "Let me see them." Harry sighed again, and admitted defeat. He hunched his shoulders, but reached for his robes.  
  
"Malfoy! Malfoy!" a Slytherin voice yelled. Both of them jumped. Footsteps sounded in the doorway of the locker room. "Over here," Draco hissed, and pulled Harry into a decent hiding place, in the shadows behind the case for the Quidditch robes. A burly fourth year jogged into the room. "Malfoy, hurry up. Captain wants us all out there."  
  
"Right," grunted Draco. He followed the other Slytherin, but flicked a look backward at the door. Harry waited a full minute to be sure they were gone, then he crept out from his hidey-hole. He walked quietly to the outer door of the locker room, and peered out. He had a full view of the Slytherin Quidditch team practicing on the pitch. There was a glaring light too close to the door for Harry to use the shadows to escape. And he didn't want the Slytherin team to find him creeping out of their locker room. He sighed and went back to sit on a bench.  
  
The time passed slowly; Harry rubbed his aching muscles as he listened to the muddled commands and positions. About an hour the later Harry heard the call for them all to dismount, and the noise increased as the team grew closer to the locker rooms. Harry went quickly back to the corner were he crouched down in the shadow of the case. He pulled himself back as far as possible, so there was no chance he could be seen.  
  
The boisterous team was right behind him. They joked and yelled back and forth. In just a few minutes, the all-boy team was walking past Harry's hiding place to the showers. Harry got to listen to their humor; the sick jokes that teenage males make, and jokes that made his blood boil till he wanted to jump out and wring their necks. He didn't hear much from Draco. A team member echoed his thoughts.  
  
"Why aren't you saying anything, Malfoy?" said one of the team  
  
"Oh, he must have a new girlfriend," said another, laughing.  
  
"Like I'd let a girl get to me that bad," Malfoy drawled.  
  
"Mr. Cool over there is probably just planning something for our Gryffindor friends."  
  
"So it's a Gryffindor girl that's gotten to you, is it, Malfoy. Just think, maybe it's Granger!" The boy guffawed and then did a horrible impression of Harry's friend.  
  
"Granger's nothing," said Draco. "This is about Potter."  
  
This delighted the rest of the team. "What's your next plan, Malfoy?" "Got anything good lined up?"  
  
The captain of the team spoke up; "I like what you did to Potter last week. You think you could manage that again before our next Quidditch match, Draco?"  
  
"You think we can't win this ourselves?" Malfoy asked coldly. "Besides, I have something even better planned." This got some appreciative noises. The other team members called out, wanting to know what it was. But judging by their disappointed noises, Malfoy wasn't telling.  
  
Soon the showers had shut off one by one, and the team paraded past Harry's hiding spot, dripping and snapping towels at one another. Harry grimaced. He waited while the Slytherins got dressed and began to leave. Some lingered, and one came running back for something he had forgotten. It seemed like he had been waiting for years before Draco appeared, kneeling down at the edge of case.  
  
Harry began to get up, but too many of his muscles fought back. He groaned and settled back on the ground again. His leg and shoulder muscles had all cramped up; Quidditch practice and sitting too long had made him stiff and sore. Draco, looking anxious, scouted forward and reached for Harry's hand. He helped him slide out into the room, pulled him over and onto a bench. Harry didn't fight against him; he was too sore and too tired. Right now he didn't want to face Draco. He wanted to think of him as Malfoy, the Slytherin, the enemy. But Draco did care, and at the moment he was concerned for Harry.  
  
"Take off your robes, Harry," Draco said. He had held Harry against him when they sat down on the bench, and Harry hadn't pulled away yet. Draco squeezed his wrapped arms around Harry when he didn't get any response. "Let me see them, Harry. I just want to help."  
  
Harry held still in his arms, then drew a deep breath. He pulled away a bit, just enough to reach up for his robes. He slid them off his shoulders, shook them off his arms. Draco made to help, but Harry shrugged him off. Draco let him be.  
  
Harry's eyes were focused on the floor. The robes fell around his waist and he put his hands to the bottom of his shirt. He gave it a child- like tug, pulling it down further. Draco reached again, and placed his hands beside Harry's. Draco pulled Harry's shirt out of his belt, and coaxed him to pull it up.  
  
"Come on," Draco whispered. Harry took hold of the shirt by himself, pulled it up over his head. Draco couldn't think of anything to say; his eyes blurred as he tried to reconcile the sight of Harry's bruises.  
  
It hurt Harry to look at Draco's half expressionless, half upset face. But he leveled his gaze to look in Draco's eyes. "There you go," he told Draco. "This is why I hurt." He held his arms up so Draco could see better. "But I suppose I'm just a wimp. The Prince of Slytherin's certainly lived through worse than this."  
  
"Don't talk about yourself that way," said Draco with a critical frown. He pulled Harry's arms down to his sides, and held them there. "Pain is nothing to joke about." He was running his fingers along Harry's sides, outlining the edges of the bruises.  
  
"It looks worse than it is," said Harry self-consciously. "Madame Pomfrey gave me some potions for them, and for the injuries behind them. I'm not sure it lasts very long, though. The old ones are hurting again."  
  
"These, right?" said Draco, touching his fingertips lightly on a few yellowing ones.  
  
"Yes," said Harry.  
  
"It was a rough game," Draco stated. He was still moving his fingers along Harry's skin. He ran them along to the borders of the large purple ones from Tuesday's; Harry sucked his breath in through his teeth. "Are these from the other day?"  
  
"Yes...they're worse," Harry said.  
  
"How did you get them at your own practice?"  
  
"It was just an accident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Harry sighed. "They really hurt."  
  
Draco rested his hands on Harry's skin. "I know some potions that might help."  
  
Harry looked confused, "Potions?"  
  
"Ones that Madame Pomfrey might not know," said Draco carefully looking up, trying to show his good intent.  
  
"Dark magic?" Harry asked suspiciously.  
  
"Not Dark magic," Draco sighed, "but handed down to me in sort of the same way. It's not harmful, I swear." The suspicion in Harry's eyes abated slightly.  
  
"And I've thought of something else I can do for you," Draco said. He slid closer to Harry on the bench, and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. He began lightly massaging them.  
  
"Sounds good," said Harry attempting to keep his voice level at the soothing kneading.  
  
"Well if you agree, then I want to be somewhere more comfortable. A hard bench is no place to give a massage, and this is too open for my taste. Anyone might come along."  
  
"The window seat, then?" Harry said, leaning forward as Draco removed his hands.  
  
"That's not much better than this," said Draco. "It's out in the open and it's just a different kind of bench. I was thinking—" Right now Draco's brain was thinking, 'Proceed with caution!' "—that we could use my room." He could see Harry's face, but he couldn't figure out his reaction. He waited for Harry's answer.  
  
"Well, I don't know about Slytherins," said Harry slowly, "but my bed is in a dorm, and don't see how that would be more private than this."  
  
Draco sighed in relief. "Since only the Slytherins use the dungeons, there's plenty of space. All the Slytherin prefects get their own bedroom and bathroom."  
  
Harry nodded. "Let's go then," he said. Draco leaned back to watch him pull his shirt and his robes back on. Then they both stood up.  
  
"The only thing I haven't figured out," Draco said as they walked to the locker room door, "is how to get you through the Slytherin common room. With me, no less."  
  
Harry leaned against the door-jam to think. After a moment he spoke up. "I think what I need is my invisibility cloak." He pulled out his wand. "Accio invisibility cloak!"  
  
They stood in the dark, waiting quietly. The wind ruffled Harry's black hair to make it messier than usual. It tugged Draco's across his forehead, obscuring his eyes. The lights from the pitch made it shine more yellow blonde, and the waning moon made the back of it glow silvery. The November wind was chill as they stood, but neither shivered, and they didn't move any closer as they waited for the cloak.  
  
It came in a gust of wind and dropped at their feet. Harry bent down to pick it up. Draco felt a bout of panic rise in his throat. "How will I know where you are? I don't want to step on you, or leave you behind," he said. He held back a blush at how anxious it sounded.  
  
"I keep a hand on your back, so you'll know I'm there," Harry said. He was about to fling on the cloak. Draco could see his eyes, and saw a smile in them. Warm and comfortable, not mocking or sarcastic or cynical. Then Harry said, "Besides, I wouldn't want to get lost on the way to a Slytherin bedroom. I might 'accidentally' go into the wrong one. Like Zabini's, or Pansy's." He put on the cloak.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. Beside him he heard Harry laugh. But he couldn't see Harry; it was an eerie feeling. A moment later, one of Harry's hands was resting lightly on his back. "So weird..." said Draco as they set off toward the castle.  
  
They had only gone a few yards when Draco stopped. "You won't do anything to me, will you?" he asked.  
  
"What did you have in mind?" said Harry in a low voice, right into Draco's ear. Draco had only heard him use that tone once or twice before, in passing. Draco wondered if Harry had any idea what that voice did to him. He also wondered if he ever made Harry feel the same. Because when he heard it, he wanted to pull the cloak right off Harry and kiss him good.  
  
"Several things had occurred to me," Draco said meekly.  
  
"Don't worry Draco. I wouldn't rape you unless you could see me," said Harry smoothly in the same low voice, only half joking.  
  
"That's a relief," Draco muttered sarcastically. "Just keep your hands where they belong." Harry laughed behind him, in his normal tone. They continued on their way to the castle.  
  
Once inside they descended the stairs into the cold dungeons and Draco showed Harry where the Slytherin common room was. Draco gave the password, "Monkshood," and the stone door slid open. They scooted inside and walked between the straight back chairs, and tables with a few students working on their homework. The Quidditch captain, seated near the fire, saw Draco come in. "Malfoy," he yelled, "what kept you so long?"  
  
"He had to finish up his trap for Potter," laughed another boy, who was sitting on a couch opposite, with some girl wrapped around him, kissing his face and neck.  
  
Draco gave a small, cruel Malfoy smile and continued on without saying anything. He walked up some steps and under the arched the doorway that led toward the dorms. A few yards along on the right side another corridor joined with this one. Draco turned on to it, and Harry followed closely. They met one other person in the corridor: he nodded at Draco, and continued to the common room. The corridor twisted back and forth, but didn't branch out.  
  
Draco stopped them at a door, and said his own password. "Moonlight." The door swung inward silently, and Harry and Draco walked inside.  
  
"I could find that again," said Harry's disembodied voice over his shoulder. The hand dropped from his back, leaving a chill spot.  
  
"Twelfth door on the left," said Draco, turning around to find Harry looking all around the room. A big four-poster bed stood not too far in front of them. The door to the washroom was on right-hand wall, a desk against the corridor wall. A wardrobe stood across from the bed, with chests beside it. "Thank you," Draco said softly.  
  
"Huh?" Harry asked, none too brightly. He had no idea what Draco was talking about.  
  
"You could have humiliated me one way or another in front of all those Slytherins," Draco said, "but you didn't."  
  
Harry left the invisibility cloak in a pile by the door. He sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "Of course not. I want you to be able to fit in with them. I wouldn't do that Draco," he said.  
  
"I know. It's one of the things I love about you," Draco said with a smile. He cupped his hand around Harry's jaw, then flicked a bit of hair out of Harry's eyes. "It's in your nature to be kind to those you...care for."  
  
Harry flushed and looked down. Draco sat back, a few feet away from him. The two of them couldn't think of anything to say, and Draco thought how stupid it was of him to be doing this. Right now, he should be helping Harry feel more comfortable, and giving him that massage, but he was sitting around tongue-tied like a little girl with her first crush.  
  
"How about a shower," said Draco out of the blue, to break the silence. "The potion for the bruises will take me a little while to brew, and I bet you wouldn't mind it." Harry looked up at him, and Draco thought, 'Oh no, now he thinks I'm a pervert.'  
  
"Uh, it's no big deal," said Harry, not really wanting to take one in Draco's bathroom.  
  
"You sure?" asked Draco, getting up.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," said Harry awkwardly.  
  
Draco walked into the bathroom and was busy with something that Harry couldn't see. He said over his shoulder, "I've got a bit of homework to finish tonight, and I've got plenty of plain shirts you could borrow for when you're done. I'm sure hot water would feel good on all those tight muscles. Plus," he said sticking his head through the door, "the hot water never runs out."  
  
Harry found himself getting up. He walked into the bathroom. Draco had pulled out a new set of towels from the drawers. They were a deep blue color. He hung them in easy reach of the shower, and turned back to Harry. "Well?"  
  
"All right. I guess it would feel good," said Harry, rubbing a shoulder.  
  
"That's the ticket," said Draco, smiling at him. He walked back out into the bedroom with Harry following. He opened the wardrobe, and pulled out a drawer. Inside was a pile of folded T-shirts. Harry picked the top one and Draco closed the wardrobe. Harry walked over to the bathroom door. "Well, see you in a bit, then," said Draco, in turn walking to his desk.  
  
Harry was just about to shut the door when he thought of something. "Draco," he said, "no one can walk in on us, can they?"  
  
"Oh no," Draco. "I haven't told anyone that password, so the only one who could get in is Snape. And he never comes around." Draco had to laugh a little bit at the look on Harry's face. Then the bathroom door closed and he turned to his desk. He dug out an old tattered book from a desk drawer, then went to the chests to pull out some things he needed. A small cauldron, and all the ingredients he had taken his time getting. He brought the materials to his desk and set about creating a potion that would take the tenderness out of the bruises. While it brewed he sat at his desk and finished the last few inches of parchment Professor Flitwick had asked for.  
  
Meanwhile Harry was enjoying a very hot shower. He didn't care about cleaning, he just let the hot water pour down his back and chest and let his thoughts melt away. Except for a pair of blue hazel eyes that drifted through his head, and little streamers of fine blonde hair flicking about in the wind. They had been in his thoughts more and more often the past few days. They were becoming almost as distracting as his hurts.  
  
Hermione and Ron kept crowding as well. He hoped they wouldn't be too worried about, but he knew that they probably were. He couldn't explain to them anything he was doing here, and he would have to figure out some kind of cover. He felt he ought to leave so they wouldn't have to worry about him, but he wanted to stay here with Draco. For as long as Draco would let him.  
  
Maybe he should tell them he had a girlfriend, he thought sarcastically. One that he didn't want to name. But he wasn't willing to lie that much to his two best friends. They would just have to live with whatever he told them, he told himself firmly. He tried to once again push all coherent thought aside and indulge in the hot water.  
  
About half an hour later he shut the water off, and grabbed the blue towels. He dried off, and hung them up to dry beside Draco's inexplicably white ones. He pulled on his boxers, and then, with an embarrassed grimace, Draco's shirt. He toweled his hair once more, and then opened the door of the steamy bathroom. 


	6. Golden Slumbers II

A/N: The next chapter should be shorter. These are so long, its cool and a bit scary. xp  
  
Draco looked up and smiled at him as he walked out into the bedroom. "That looks better," he said. Harry saw that he had hung up his robes. His shoes and socks were lying on the floor.  
  
Harry went to sit on the corner or the bed. "You know, I've realized something weird about you," Harry said.  
  
"Oh?" said Draco, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
"Your room is so neat. You're a teenage boy who doesn't have food or candy lying around. There's hardly any clothes out. Your homework is kept all neat in you bag and your papers and books are kept in your desk. It's unreal. It looks nothing like my dormitory."  
  
Draco chuckled. "I can't help it, I've always been this way. I don't mind messes, I'm just not good at making them."  
  
"White towels?" Harry asked incredulously.  
  
"I use what they give me." Draco shrugged. "Anyway, the potion's almost done. I'm just going to let it brew for a minute or two longer. It should help the bruises, and last for several days." He put his finished homework into his bag.  
  
Harry looked over at Draco. "Can you believe it's been a week since we met in that storage closet?" he asked.  
  
"Exactly a week," said Draco, leaning to stretch.  
  
"Funny," said Harry. "It seems like a lot longer. Tuesday night seems close, but last week feels like it was ages ago."  
  
"It's all that hard Quidditch practice," Draco joked. He turned around to his little cauldron. He blew out the small flame under it, then walked to one of his chests. He pulled out a frosted glass goblet. Walking back to his desk, he ladled the entire contents into it. He walked to the bed and handed it to Harry.  
  
Harry looked down at the pinkish-reddish liquid, and then up at Draco. Draco shrugged at him. Harry was at a loss for what else to do, so he raised his glass, said, "Cheers," and tipped the potion down his throat.  
  
It didn't burn going down, and it tasted almost...nice. The taste made him think of bread which confused him. He looked up from the goblet to find Draco watching him. Draco raised his eyebrows as he took back the goblet. "Not too bad," said Harry.  
  
Draco seemed to accept this because he walked into the bathroom and set the goblet beside the sink. Then he came back to the main room. "What did you think it tasted like?" he asked.  
  
"Like bread," said Harry, rubbing his nose, embarrassed.  
  
Draco laughed. "Interesting," he said. Then he was laughing again.  
  
"What?!" said Harry, flustered.  
  
"The potion tastes different to everyone. The taste is sometimes said to reflect the personality of the drinker. I'm not sure what that says about you," Draco said.  
  
"Maybe I like sandwiches," said Harry a bit disgruntled.  
  
Draco stopped laughing eventually, and walked to the bed. "Now that you had a shower, it's time for your massage. Is that potion working yet? I don't want to prod your bruises."  
  
"I think so; how can we tell?" Harry said.  
  
"Well, I could hit you," Draco said facetiously; Harry rolled his eyes. "But I don't think I need to. Just poke your sides a bit, tell me if it hurts."  
  
Harry did so, then shook his head. "Like normal," he said.  
  
"Good," said Draco. "Now I can begin. Take off your T-shirt." Harry pulled it off, and Draco took it and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. "Lay down on the bed, and stretch out on your stomach."  
  
"What should I do with my arms?" Harry asked.  
  
"Keep them a little ways out from your sides," Draco said. He scooted up beside Harry. "Some people would have you lay on your back, but I think this will be easier. Do you mind if I kneel over you?"  
  
"Um," said Harry.  
  
"I'll just sit on your back with a leg on either side. I'll be able to reach all of your back that way."  
  
"Okay," Harry said.  
  
Draco kneeled on top of Harry, and shook out his arms to limber up. It wasn't that he was stiff, but he was so damn nervous. And for no good reason. He knew what he was doing, and Harry was expecting him to do it. So Draco leaned forward, and began working on Harry's shoulders.  
  
As he worked his way down Harry's back, Harry spoke up. "Where did you learn how to do this? I don't think that most people can just do this out of the blue."  
  
"They can't," said Draco, pounding a little bit. "I learned this," here Draco grunted and had to catch his breath as he gave a large twist with his fist, "from an old woman in London."  
  
Harry waited a minute, then said, "And?" Draco noticed happily that Harry's words were slow and becoming a little slurred.  
  
Draco stretched, then leaned down again. "Off of Diagon Alley is another small wizarding alley that I know of. It's called Zung-Zung Alley. It's smaller, so it's not as well known, and it has a lot of eastern shops in it. One was a massage house that I wandered into when I was...eight. I was sort of lost and I ended up watching this old woman pound away on a few customers. I was fascinated. She was so strong, but she could make them feel wonderful, and only the magic she used was the healing music and candles that made up the background.  
  
"She let me stay in her shop that afternoon; some eight year old, stuck up kid that she didn't even know. After she finished with her first customer, she gave me a cup of tea. And later she gave me a bowl of soup from a pot she had cooking over her fire in the back of her shop. At the end of the afternoon, she had a boy from the neighboring Chinese restaurant show me how to get back to Diagon Alley. She let me know how to get back with Floo Powder.  
  
"My father was angry that I'd disappeared but glad that I'd kept myself occupied. He must have been content with the story I told him.  
  
"After that I went there several times a week for years. Right up to when school began. My parents didn't care as long as I wasn't breaking something valuable at home, and I was there when they wanted me, so it was easy to get away. I was the snottiest kid every where else, but inside Madame Li's shop I acted like someone else. I was someone else."  
  
"Like you are with me," said Harry. His words were sounded as if he was falling asleep, but Draco could see his eyes. He was wide awake and listening.  
  
Draco smiled. "Mm-hmm," he said. "She taught me the basics of massage during those three years, and plenty of other things that she believed. I was just a small boy, so I didn't get much practice, but I did small things. Shoulders, hands and feet, mostly. I also got to know the neighbors pretty well. Got lots of free noodles. Zung-Zung Alley was a place where I could act my own way. I go back every summer for lessons." Draco fell silent, and his hands faltered.  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked worriedly. He almost got up, but Draco pushed him back down again.  
  
"It's nothing that bad really," he said. His voice had gone uneven, and he cursed it inside his head. He didn't want Harry to start thinking he was weak. "It's just...Madame Li predicted her death. She said we will only meet once more. I hope I will see her this summer, but...the way these things work, it might be sometime unexpected, and we won't have a chance to talk."  
  
Harry turned his head, so he could look at Draco out of the corner of his eye. "Are you sure? I'm in Divination, and I know prophecies don't always work."  
  
Draco shook his head. "This is different. It's not quite like our magic. She knows when she's dying, and she'll only tell me that we'll meet once more. I've seen other people on that street do it." His voice caught, and he clenched his mouth together, upset with himself.  
  
Harry said quietly, "Maybe if you wrote and asked her to tell you more?"  
  
Draco blinked. "I hadn't thought of that. It might work. I'll try it."  
  
"You've slowed down a lot," said Harry. "Are you done?" He sounded regretful.  
  
"Not yet, I just got distracted. I'm going to do something harder, and then I'll finish up," Draco told him. "This bit might be a little uncomfortable, but it'll feel really good when I'm finished."  
  
He leaned in, and began exerting himself, pressing his fists hard against Harry's back. He cracked Harry's neck, and Harry groaned comfortably. He pushed hard on Harry's shoulders, shifting them up and down. Harry groaned some more. Draco managed to work up a sweat, which meant he was doing his job properly. To finish up, Draco started at Harry's shoulders and began working his way down to Harry's hips, kneading his back like bread dough. Harry made some small, relaxed sounds.  
  
When Draco had made it down to the small of Harry's back, Harry shifted underneath him. "Are you finished?" he faltered.  
  
"Almost," said Draco, a little surprised. He was glad for a chance to catch his breath, but Harry had sounded like he was enjoying this. Now, from the sound of his voice, Draco wasn't sure.  
  
"Could you finish? With this part, I mean," Harry asked hesitantly.  
  
Draco paused with his hands on Harry's back. "Why?" he said, a bit afraid of the answer.  
  
He could see Harry's face go red. "Well, it's just...you're hips keep grinding against my butt, and it's getting really warm here, and...." Harry was blushing madly, and Draco started laughing.  
  
"You think it's warm? I'm the one doing this!" Draco laughed some more. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" Draco asked teasingly.  
  
"Y-yeah," Harry stammered.  
  
Draco grinned at him. "Very well, then. The client is always right." Draco leaned back and repositioned himself. He took a deep breath, and began simply rubbing Harry's skin. The rub-down was the last part of the massage. It calmed Draco down, and softened the rest of it for the person receiving the massage. Harry sighed contentedly, and resettled himself. Draco watched the green eyes slide closed behind the glasses.  
  
Harry's breathing slowed down even more as Draco finished up and Draco thought he might be sleeping. It made him a bit sad because he had wanted to chat some more with Harry before they settled down. But it was beautiful as well; Draco loved to watch Harry sleep. His face smoothed out, and he got the sweetest smile on his face. His eyes were obviously closed, but Draco was willing pass up a chance to stare into them to watch him sleep.  
  
Draco slid his hands along Harry's neck, then down along his shoulder blades, just to be able to touch his skin. Checking Harry's face, to be sure he was sleeping, Draco leaned down, and kneeled over the length of Harry's back. He leaned in close and touched his lips to the wet tips of Harry's hair. A few drops of water stood out, and Draco sucked them off the tips, twisting the hair between his lips to get out all the water out. Then he dropped his mouth down to Harry's skin and left light kisses down to the base of his neck. At the top of his shoulders, Draco sucked harder, kissing Harry's neck the way he wanted to be kissing his mouth. To his surprise, Harry moaned and Draco nearly jumped out of his skin.  
  
"I thought you were asleep," Draco said shakily as Harry looked up at him.  
  
"How am I supposed to be able to sleep through all that?" Harry asked him. His smile was sleepy, but his eyes were awake. "I thought we had an agreement on rape, anyway," he said, with a grin and a glitter in his eyes.  
  
"You laid out your terms on it; I didn't say anything," Draco retorted. Harry smiled more.  
  
He rolled over between Draco's arms. His bare chest was almost pressed against Draco's shirt, and Draco was having a hard time controlling his breathing. "I wonder if I can still remember how to do that kiss you showed me," Harry drawled up at him.  
  
Draco smiled a slow silky smile. "Have you been practicing?" he asked lowly, playfully.  
  
"No," said Harry dolefully, with a grin twitching the corners of his mouth. "It'll have to be all from memory."  
  
"Let's see how good your memory is then," Draco said. He lowered himself to his elbows to make it easier for Harry. Harry pulled up his arms to tangle his fingers into Draco's hair. He raised his head to press his lips against Draco's. The last thing Draco saw of him was Harry's full lips moving up toward him, and then Harry's green eyes engulfed everything.  
  
Harry only hesitated for a moment in their kiss, and it made Draco so glad. Harry could accept him; Harry could love him. Then he forgot about thinking again as Harry pressed his tongue against Draco's closed lips, wanting to be the one to take the kiss further.  
  
They kissed harder, and broke apart for air, and then kissed once more. Draco let Harry muss up his hair as he propped himself against the other. But lying on a bed instead of sitting on a window seat changed everything, and Draco wasn't surprised when Harry began pull back. Their bodies were pressing together, and they were both hot and lightheaded. To continue kissing would likely lead to something they would regret.  
  
"Draco," said Harry, his chest raising as he caught his breath. "Draco, I'm sorry." His breath came gasping out. It shuddered as it would if he was crying; the sounds broke Draco's heart. "I can't go any further with you. Not right now. Not tonight. I'm just not ready for it."  
  
"Hush, love, hush. I know; it's all right. I'm not asking you to," Draco said gently. He leaned his cheek against Harry's forehead. They lay still.  
  
"I know you're not ready," said Draco, sitting up a bit. "I can see it, and it's not a problem. This went further then I meant it to. It probably would have been better if I hadn't been lying on top of you."  
  
"I just wanted you to know that it wasn't you," Harry said despondently, as Draco rolled off to lay beside him.  
  
"I can tell it's not that," said Draco comfortably where he was. "You've never done it before; you've only had one girlfriend before. I can respect that." He picked up the arm he had flopped across his chest, and ruffled Harry's hair fondly.  
  
Harry smiled happily, and moved his head to kiss Draco's wrist. "Thanks, Draco." They lay quietly for a moment, looking at each other. Draco flopped his arm back onto his chest. "I managed to rumple you," Harry said.  
  
"Yeah, you did a good job," Draco told him. He couldn't stop smiling at Harry. There was nothing to fix an argument and a long day than a snog with someone you loved.  
  
Eventually though, Draco had to get up. Harry's eyelids were drooping, and he had some things he wanted to do before he went to bed. He laid a hand on Harry's chest. "I'm going to go take a shower, all right? I don't know about you, but I don't like going to sleep without one, and the Quidditch showers don't count."  
  
Harry's green eyes followed him as he sat up. "So how come you get to see me in only a pair of boxers, but all I get is to see you in a shirt and trousers?" he murmured, jokingly.  
  
"Because that's the way I want you!" said Draco raucously. He smacked Harry in the side.  
  
And immediately regretted it when Harry flinched and went pale. Draco bent over him. "What is it, Harry?" he asked. "It can't be the bruises already."  
  
Harry shook his head. "Something underneath," he muttered.  
  
Draco searched his face, then sprang up from the bed. He pulled out the same tattered book, opened it and scanned a page, then went to his trunks. He came back to his desk with a heap of spell materials. "What are you doing?" Harry asked wearily.  
  
"I never even thought of internal injuries," said Draco fiercely, already measuring out his materials, and dumping them into the empty cauldron. He took a second to look over at Harry. "You didn't feel anything during the massage, though, did you?"  
  
"No." Harry shook his head.  
  
"Well, this should help," Draco said, finishing up with the ingredients. He brushed his hands off on his pants after he set the potion to brew. "It will need to brew for a while; it should be ready when I finish my shower." He rocked back on his heels, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You're staying here for the night, right?"  
  
"Yeah...yeah, I thought I would. If you don't mind," Harry said uncertainly. There was a shadow covering his face as he lay on the bed, and Draco could barely see his expression.  
  
"No, I want you to stay," said Draco, relieved. "If you're comfortable with it, it would be great."  
  
Harry nodded and watched Draco walk into the bathroom. The door closed behind him, leaving Harry alone for a bit. He shifted about till he got his head on the pillows, with a good view of the bathroom door. He could hear Draco moving around in the bathroom. Then a minute later, Draco came out of the bathroom. He had stripped down to his boxers. "Forgot a T- shirt," he said awkwardly. Harry just grinned at him; he nearly got Draco to blush.  
  
"Good," Harry said. "We're almost even." Draco's face pinked but he opened the wardrobe and pulled out a shirt. Then Harry saw his mouth quirk. He turned around to face the bed, and slung the shirt over his shoulder. He smiled like a fox, and walked the floor in front of the bed, swinging his hips and pretending to be a fashion model. Harry laughed and threw a pillow at him. Draco threw it back, catching him full in the face, then hurried to the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind him.  
  
Harry propped the pillow behind him, and settled back comfortably. He could wait. A minute or two later, he heard the water start to run.  
  
Harry blinked as the bathroom door opened again. The light that fell out of the doorway seemed very bright to him. He realized he must have been dozing. He could see Draco walk to the desk and set something on it. The old frosted goblet, Harry realized. He could see through his half- lidded eyes that Draco was now wearing his boxers and the T-shirt. He watched Draco fill up the goblet sleepily. Then the shadows obscured his silhouette. Harry felt the mattress sink a little as Draco sat down beside him. Then Draco leaned forward, and the light from the bathroom hit his face again. Draco must have seen his eyes move, for he whispered, "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Not really," he whispered back.  
  
"Oh good," Draco said. He held out the goblet. "You'll be able to drink this then."  
  
Harry sat up on his elbow, and took the goblet. He took a deep breath, then drank it down. It was hot, and it didn't taste as good as the first. It wasn't awful, though, and in no time he had drank the whole thing. Draco took the goblet and walked it into the bathroom, setting it by the sink. He stuck his head out the door. "I'm going to put out this light, all right?" he said. "The others are all out." His head disappeared again, and then the light went out, leaving Harry blinking in the darkness. He heard Draco's feet padding across the floor, then felt him sit on the bed again. He could begin to see Draco's outline. He saw Draco raise his hands and reach out toward his face. "I'll set your glasses on the side table, okay?" Harry just barely felt his fingertips touch his face, and then felt his glasses lifted from it.  
  
The weight on the bed sifted, and then Harry saw Draco's shape turn back again. The blankets tugged underneath, and so he sat up and helped Draco pull them down. He slid down inside them beside Draco. The sheets were silky and cold from the dungeon air, so he scooted up against Draco. He reached out for him and wrapped his arms around Draco's chest, and pulled them closer together. Draco scooted in too, and they curled up against each other, trying to warm up faster.  
  
Harry snuggled his head against Draco's chest. "What time is it?" he asked.  
  
"Not quite 10:30," Draco told him. He could feel Harry's jaw drop against his chest.  
  
"It doesn't feel like it," Harry said quietly. Draco nodded. Harry remembered something else he had been wanting to ask. "What did you mean when you said those weren't Dark potions, but you had learned them in the same way. What did you mean?"  
  
"They aren't Dark spells, and they don't use the same materials as Dark spells. But my father taught them too me at the same time. They're all either from memory or in little books like that. The spells have been kept within the...the full-blooded families, passed along by mouth, and occasionally written down in a collection. A long time ago, everyone knew the basics of the spells, but as some families branched out to marry Muggles, the full-blooded wizards kept the spells to themselves. Eventually, the details were lost or changed among the mixed-blood families. The original spells can work much better."  
  
"You'd think the other wizards would experiment to make them work better," Harry said sleepily. He stirred, stretching out closer alongside Draco, tangling his legs about him a bit. "You should write all those down in a book, and get it published anonymously." Harry yawned.  
  
Draco blinked at the idea; it was a good one. He stretched his arm out to support Harry's head, and held Harry close with the other. Harry was clinging to him, with his head against Draco's shoulder. Draco felt himself beginning to drift off; beside him, Harry's breath was evening out.  
  
Just before they fell asleep Harry said thickly, "Do you know what I think of when I think of snogging, Draco?"  
  
"Mmm?" Draco murmured, on the verge of sleep.  
  
"I think of a big rounded couch, that's fuzzy and red. And two people sitting on it, across from some big windows that look out across a big empty outdoor space. Big, fuzzy, and comfortable. That's what snogging makes me think of," Harry finished up.  
  
It was a full minute before Draco managed to get out, "I'll be sure to wake you up in time to get back."  
  
They both fell asleep like that.  
  
Early the next morning, Harry woke to Draco shaking him. "You have to get up now, Harry. I think you'll have time to get back, but you'll have to leave now." Harry groaned and tried to burrow into the blankets, but Draco pulled them completely off. The dungeon air was chill after the November night and Harry shivered. Draco handed him his glasses, and Harry noticed that Draco had already dressed while Harry still slept. Draco then dropped Harry's clothes onto the bed, and helped Harry into them.  
  
At the door, Draco watched as Harry pulled on his shoes. "Ready? Let's go, then," he said.  
  
"You don't have to come if you don't want," Harry said quickly. Draco looked into his face and read something there. Harry let him.  
  
"All right then," Draco said. He even managed not to look hurt by it. "When you walk up to the common room wall, it will open for you." He handed Harry's his cloak.  
  
Harry thanked him, put it on, and left. All he wanted to worry about was how to get back without waking Ron, but he could tell he wasn't going to be that lucky.  
  
The only time he wasted getting back was taking a moment to watch the sun come up over the lake.  
  
A/N: let me know if you think the Zung-Zung Alley thing is completely not good and I will do my best to bury it. I'm still not certain about it. 


	7. Picking up the Pieces

A/N: My writing style has been pissing me off lately. So I may take a bit off, do some finger excercises, ya know... Anywhat keep rootin' for me! I'm still working on it!!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Thank You's: **Elebereth-**thanks bunches! I love your name...grrjealous **Autumn Sun-** thank you for the advice. I wasn't sure about that bit, becuz I don't like making up things when J.K.'s world is so complete.- **Draco-**go draco!! I'm working on it, see, see?!

Chapter 6:

Harry crept into his dormitory. He closed the door carefully, tiptoed across the floor, anything to not wake up his roommates. The very end bed, his, had the curtain closed around it. That made Harry pause, but he figured Ron had done it. There was always the possibility that there was someone else was in it, but Harry really doubted it. He opened the trunk at the end of his bed and pulled out some pajamas. He took them over to the window side of the bed where the only person who could see him was the boy in the opposite bed.

He pulled off the invisibility cloak, and changed from his robes into his pajamas. Then he crept back and slipped the cloak and robes into his trunk, and closed it quietly. He stood up for a moment, watching the light just beginning to brighten the room. Then he ducked between the bed curtains and tried to sleep until it was time to wake up before breakfast.

Draco sat at his desk, swinging his foot. He was still dressed, and felt comfortably rested. He had a little writing book open in front of him, and he was staring down at it. He didn't use very often, but now and again he found there was something in his life he wanted to write down, and try to figure out. He was studying what he had written.

It read:

'Last night when Harry kissed me, he didn't hold anything back. But this morning when I was going to walk him back to the Gryffindor rooms, he didn't want me too. He wasn't nervous. He just didn't want me to come at all. He had the same look in his eyes he got when we were talking on Tuesday. Maybe he was just worried about somebody seeing us. And maybe he's not as comfortable as I think yet. He's never gone with a guy before. I might have scared him. Or I might just be an experiment he's done with now. But I really love him. And I thought he maybe did too, so that last bit doesn't make any sense.

He said that I should put all the old spells into a book, and get it published. Anonymously of course, or I'd be lynched, but it was a good idea. It would be an interesting project. I'll have to think about it.'

At the bottom he had scrawled:

'I hope Hermione and Ron don't give him too much trouble today.'

Draco had tried to put his thoughts down as they came to him, and now he was trying to sort them out; what was good, and what was true from what wasn't. Mostly he was just stuck where he had been before. After all, how was he supposed to explain the way that Harry thought? Especially since he was in love with him. It would have to wait, if he wanted to know.

In the meantime, it was only half an hour until breakfast would first be served in the Great Hall. Draco decided to wait it out in the common room, maybe reading some more of his Stealthy Snitch. He returned the book to his hiding place and left the room.

Seamus' alarm clock went off inside the Gryffindor dorm, and Harry groaned as he rolled over and tried to ignore it. It wasn't possible. Hiding your face in the pillow only made the alarm seem louder. Harry heard other people moving throughout the dormitory, and he groaned again and pushed himself up. He opened the bed curtains. Seamus was blinking sleepily at the end of his bed, and Dean was standing next to him, and yelling about the alarm. Ron was stumbling through his own bed curtains across from Harry's, and Neville was stirring behind his. The usual morning routine.

Harry slid out of his bed, pushing his glasses up onto his nose. Ron was blinking groggily, but when he noticed Harry his jaw fell open. "Morning, Ron," said Harry quickly, heading for his trunk before Ron could really say anything.

After Ron and Harry had pulled their clothes out of their trunks, Ron pulled Harry back between their beds. "Where were you?" Ron whispered.

"What do you mean?" said Harry innocently, getting into his clothes.

Ron rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Harry. What were you doing?"

Harry turned to him. "Look, I'll tell you in a little while, all right?" Ron opened his mouth to say some more, but Harry cut him off. "If I tell you now, then I'll have to say twice 'cause Hermione will want to know. So I'll just tell you both at once. It's no big deal."

Ron frowned at him, but didn't press the point. They finished dressing, grabbed their work, and made their way out the dormitory. Down in the common room they waited for Hermione. Ginny came down the steps first, bouncing cheerfully on a Friday morning. "Hi Harry, hi Ron," she said brightly as she walked past them. Ron's head followed her and watched her leave the common room.

"Can you believe she's not going with Dean Thomas anymore?" Ron said disbelievingly. "I can't understand how she does that."

"Does what?" said Harry, looking at him.

"Changes boyfriends like that! That's twice now!" Ron said loudly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I thought you didn't like her going with Dean anyway," he said.

"It wasn't that bad," said Ron. "He was a Gryffindor at least. Who knows who she'll find next. Maybe..." He trailed off, looking at Harry.

Harry looked pointedly at the stairs to the girls' dormitories, and ignored his friend. A few minutes later, Hermione appeared at the top of the stairs. When she saw her friends she rushed down them. "Harry!" she said, sounding surprised to see them both standing there. "Where---!" she began, but Harry cut her off.

"I'll explain at breakfast. I'm starving, so's Ron. Let's go," he told her. The three of them made their way through the growing crowd of students, out of the common room, and through the corridors. In the Great Hall they grabbed three seats right next to each other. Ron was craning his head about, trying to watch Ginny. She was sitting with a few of her girl friends, talking happily back and forth. No sign of a boy nearby.

"So, Harry," said Ron, turning back, "spill it. What happened last night?"

"What did you two do?" Harry asked keenly, trying to put of the inevitable a little bit longer.

"We stayed up for ages," Hermione said. "We were the last people up for hours."

"Oh," said Harry. He tried hard to sound embarrassed. He didn't want to tell them anything that had gone on, but he didn't want them upset either. "I just got caught up with something in the library," he said vaguely, "and then later...I was thinking."

"What about?" Ron asked, not very tactfully. A bit of porridge slipped out of his mouth.

"A bit about Sirius. And a bit about the end of last year. And I ended up falling asleep for a while," said Harry, looking at his plate. He hoped if they couldn't see his eyes, they wouldn't be able to tell as much of his lie.

"Oh," said Ron hollowly. Hermione looked over at him, but turned back to her breakfast next second. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"It's finally Friday," Harry said, trying to get the conversation going again.

"Yeah, luckily," said Ron.

"And no Quidditch to take up our important homework time," said Harry jokingly.

"Slytherin versus Hufflepuff," Ron said, stuffing his mouth with some toast. "Who do you reckon's gonna win?"

The conversation degraded to Quidditch talk to Hermione's dismay. The whole school was buzzing from the Friday atmosphere, and even the fact that Gryffindor sixth years had History of Magic with dusty old Binns couldn't dampen the group's spirits. After all they got to end the day out of doors with Care of Magical Creatures. The three left the hall in bright spirits.

Harry had mixed feelings about going to Care of Magical Creatures. He wanted to see Hagrid because they hadn't visited him in a while. But Malfoy would be in that class and last night's memories were too close for Harry to be certain what would happen when they met. On the walk down to Hagrid's hut, Harry very carefully kept his attention on Hermione and Ron. He didn't even notice when Malfoy and the others walked up. When Hagrid began the class, Harry paid close attention and did everything asked because it served two purposes. First of all, he could ignore the Slytherins. Secondly, it limited the things the Slytherins could say about Hagrid's lesson. When Seamus asked him to help lift a group of heavy buckets, he agreed, leaving Ron and Hermione free to talk with Hagrid. He could feel their eyes on his back as he bent down, then straightened up again.

"Hey Harry," Seamus said. He was looking behind them. "I think they're talking about you."

"Yeah," said Harry, a bit chagrinned.

"What happened?" They dumped out the contents of the buckets.

"I got back late last night, and they've catalogued with things that prove I'm losing it," he said half sarcastically.

"Ah," said Seamus wisely as they set the empty buckets down. "Good luck, mate." He slapped Harry on the back, then went off to join Dean.

Harry walked slowly back to his friends, wiping his hands on his robes, giving them a chance to wrap up their conversation. On accident he looked over at the Slytherins. Pansy said something behind her hand and most of them laughed. Malfoy smirked. But Harry, still looking at them as he walked past, caught the quickest wink he'd ever seen from Draco. He wanted to grin back, and laugh along with them to convince them that Harry Potter had finally gone off his rocker, and to tell Draco he got the joke. But he bit his cheek, looked away and walked on, with a private joke for himself.

Hagrid, Ron and Hermione stood waiting for him. "How you been, Harry?" Hagrid asked him.

"I'm fine," Harry said brightly. He watched the three of them. It was obvious they had been talking about them. It was rather comic to see the three of them try to hide it.

"Tha-that's good, that is," said Hagrid. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, but the eyes under his bushy eyebrows studied Harry as carefully as Harry had studied him. "No Qudditch this weekend. That'll give you more time to catch up on your studies. Good thing too, 'cause I've got homework for you all." The entire class groaned.

Later, on the way back to castle, Harry's mind was preoccupied. He was thinking of Draco and Draco's wink. The front part of his hair on the right side of his forehead had fallen forward across his face. The November breeze had picked it up, and had been playing with it back and forth. The rest of it had been pushed back from his face. It was getting long, Harry observed from his memories. If it was brushed forward it would completely cover Draco's blue hazel eyes.

His thoughts were interrupted by a jab in the ribs. His head jerked up, and he looked at Ron, who had poked him. "What?" he asked.

"I asked you how your bruises were, and you didn't answer," Hermione said.

"We couldn't get your attention, mate," said Ron.

"Sorry, I was thinking," Harry said.

"What about?" Hermione asked shrewdly. "I know it wasn't about Sirius; you didn't have that look on your face."

"What look did I have?" Harry asked.

"Huh?" said Hermione.

"I'm just curious," Harry said. "What look did I have?"

"Oh, well. Distant, like you were thinking about something that wasn't happening here, or that you couldn't do here. You sort of looked like you were serious, and considering something, but hopeful too. It doesn't really have a name, I guess. When you think about Sirius, you go all distant, too, and solemn, but sad too. You didn't seem sad," Hermione finished.

"Oh," said Harry. "Anyhow, to get back to your question, my bruises are fine. I can't feel them at all. Or the other stuff."

"Madame Pomfrey does know her stuff," Ron said. Harry nodded but smiled to himself.

Inside the Great Hall, supper was just beginning. They found seats together, and Ginny decided to sit along with them. Harry ended up next to her while Ron and Hermione were on the other side of the table.

At one point when Ron was distracted with food, Ginny turned to Harry. "Has Ron been watching me lately?" she asked him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I've noticed him watching me more. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't being paranoid."

"Well, he has sort of," Harry said. "I think it's because you broke up with Dean."

"Of course," said Ginny. She rolled her eyes. "You know Harry, some people are so lucky. I love my brothers, but having six overprotective brothers looking it out for me, and paying attention to me, can be so annoying. It was better when Fred and George were here because they aren't as bad as the others, but they looked after me too. Ron's as bad as the older ones, and he's here all the time. I think he tries to make up for being the second youngest by looking out for me all the time."

"Ron's kind of a worry-wart anyway," Harry said lowly, glancing across the table to see that Ron wasn't listening.

Ginny giggled. "I know. And it's nice to know he cares about me. But that doesn't mean I want him to come and try to beat up someone I really like just because I'm dating them!" she said, laughing some more.

"Yeah, you're right," Harry said. "And it's annoying how he tries to get us together."

"Yeah," said Ginny dryly. "He didn't even care while I had a crush on you, but now that I'm dating, he's obsessed with the idea of us being together. You're probably the only boyfriend I could ever have that wouldn't have to worry about being killed by him."

Harry looked closer at her. "Why did you break up with Dean, anyway," he wanted to know.

Ginny looked at her plate with a keen considering look. "I can't really tell you," she said. "I promised I wouldn't. But there was a reason that meant the relationship would never work, and so we broke up. We're still good friends and we're fine with that. In fact," she said, with a sly smile, "I think we both found a good confidant."

"Hmm," said Harry, quirking his eyebrows. "Good for you."

Ron looked at them. "How's dinner?" he asked.

"Fine," said Harry, cheekily. "How is it on that side of the table?"

Ron's ears turned red. He mumbled something and turned to Hermione. "Still trying to get us together," Ginny whispered with a smile.

"Always," Harry whispered back. He looked up and out of the blue his gaze caught Draco's. They looked at one another, then broke off. Harry glanced at Ginny to see if she had noticed, but she was busy shuffling platters. Hermione and Ron were still engaged in conversation. No one had noticed. At least now he knew how he could begin his weekend.

When the meal let out, Harry allowed himself to be separated from his friends by the crowd of students. He slowly made his way up back staircases, shedding students, until the third floor where he finally was alone. He made sure of it, then climbed the last flight, and made his way to the unvisited corridor. He wound his way around the corners, his feet picking up speed as they went. Finally he saw the window seat in front of him. Draco stood leaning against the edge of the window, his bag hanging from his shoulder.

"I can't stay long," said Draco quickly as Harry walked up.

"That's all right," Harry said. "I probably shouldn't either."

"I saw you talking with Ginny Weasley at dinner. You seemed pretty close." That didn't sound very friendly Harry thought.

"She's a good friend. And we had a bit to talk about," Harry explained rather lamely.

"It just rankles a bit," said Draco. "It looked like a very involved conversation. She can talk with you like that. And I can't."

"It was just talk," Harry said. They stood looking at each, and Harry knew what he should say.

"I'm sorry," he said, "about this morning. I just had to get back on my own; I don't know why. I didn't mean for it to come out that badly."

"It's all right," said Draco. "I think I understand. It was a bit overwhelming for me too." He smiled. Harry saw the shine in his eyes.

He stepped forward. That bit off hair had fallen forward again. He picked it up in his fingers without touching Draco's skin. He pushed it back, and ran his fingers through the rest. He lifted a piece lightly and wrapped it loosely about his finger. He tilted it back and forth, watching the light play with it. Then he laughed a little.

"What?" Draco asked, a little bemused at this strange behavior.

"It's just barely dark out," Harry said, watching the window. Draco turned Harry's face toward him with a finger.

"Only you," he said, straightening up, and dropping his bag, "would think about something like that at a time like this." He wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him in close. Harry dropped his hair, and slipped his arms around Draco's shoulders. Draco kissed him. Kissed him soft and warm, stroked a hand up and down his back. Then pulled back just as Harry was beginning to loose his senses. Draco looked into his green shining eyes. "I'm sorry, but I need to go. I'm expected in the dungeons." His eyes were sad, sorry, Harry noted.

"It's fine. This is enough," said Harry. Then he smiled, and his crinkled up eyes sparkled. "For now," he whispered in Draco's face. Draco smiled.

Draco blew him a kiss as he picked up his bag, and began to walk away. "Later love," he called back to Harry. Then he was gone.

Harry took his place leaning against the wall. There was on a smile on his face too. All this was exactly what he wanted. He was loving this year at Hogwarts even more than the others. It seemed so strange that something impossible that he never would have thought of before could make him happy now. But that was life, he supposed.

He remembered his Gryffindor friends waiting for him in the common room, and pushed off from the wall. He strolled along the corridor in high spirits, and reached the tower before he knew it. He gave the password and ducked inside. Hermione, Ron and Ginny were seated around a table on the far side of the room. There was a seat left for Harry. As he walked over to it Ginny shot him an inquisitive look. Harry shrugged and sat down.

"Harry, what took you so long?" Ron asked sparing a look from the new chess game with his sister.

Harry shrugged again. "Took the long way," was all he said. He sat with his friends and watched Ginny almost beat Ron as the time passed away. Then he took a turn against Ron himself and suffered the same fate. The evening passed, and that night Harry went to his own bed which greatly relieved Ron and Hermione.


End file.
